


Mask my thoughts behind my face

by lightninmoth



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Floris | Fundy Deserves Better, Floris | Fundy Needs A Hug, Floris | Fundy-centric, Fox Hybrid Floris | Fundy, Fundy your trauma is showing, Gen, He doesn't get one, How Do I Tag, Hurt No Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied past Clay | Dream/Floris | Fundy, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mentioned Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Toby Smith | Tubbo, Mentioned Wilbur Soot, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, Trans Floris | Fundy, Unreliable Narrator, a lot of people are mentioned but they're the main ones, canon? whose she?, i saw canon and said screw you more hurt Fundy, its a sentence but just in case, its only mentioned though, no beta we die like Tubbo at the festival, this is about the characters not the actual people, this looks worse than it is i swear, with a bang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:07:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29029923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightninmoth/pseuds/lightninmoth
Summary: Fundy had always liked the forest. He liked how dense it was and how many animals lived there, he especially liked how he could spend time alone there, how nobody could ever find him no matter how hard they were looking. L’Manburg might have been where he was born and raised, however the forest with the animals was his home, where he felt most like himself.---Aka Fundy finds comfort in the forest around L'manburg and reflects about his life and himself albeit negatively.Alternative title: Fundy likes music, forests, and being alone
Relationships: Floris | Fundy & Ranboo, No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 64





	Mask my thoughts behind my face

**Author's Note:**

> [Song: It's Ok I wouldn't Remember Me Either by Crywank]  
> Hi! I just want to put some quick warnings of what paragraphs (paras) include the tags (yk the ones).  
> Implied abuse: Entire para starting with 'When Schlatt' all the way to 'ever trying' in the para after ('Now that Tubbo'), and again in the para starting 'Fundy strummed his guitar'.  
> Implied self-harm: One sentence starting 'He tugged off the long jacket' (it's pretty small, u might miss it but just in case).  
> Suicidal thoughts: Entire para starting with 'That was an interesting thought' it's only that para though.  
> Self-hatred is rattled all over this fic just so you know.  
> 

Fundy had always liked the forest. He liked how dense it was and how many animals lived there, he especially liked how he could spend time alone there, how nobody could ever find him no matter how hard they were looking. L’Manburg might have been where he was born and raised, however the forest with the animals was his home, where he felt most like himself.

In L’Manburg he had always felt like he had to hide his more fox-like traits, everything from his physical attributes to his habit to yip and his abnormal fox laugh, he was pretty sure no-one, not even Niki, even knew that he could turn fully into a fox. Maybe his father did know at one point but now, in his body without a mind form, he definitely didn’t. Fundy doubts he even remembered about it when he was alive, he never had time to remember something as silly as that. 

When Schlatt had become president Fundy thought that maybe - just maybe - he wouldn't have to hide like he did before since the new president was similar and he was right… For a bit. It wasn’t a secret that Schlatt was quite the character. That he was loud and brash however Fundy doubts that anyone who wasn't himself, Tubbo, or Quackity ever got the brunt of the force that was Schlatt. Fundy still remembers hearing Tubbo’s cries and watching Quackity forcibly cracking his wings back into place so they would heal semi-correctly (Fundy also remembers sometimes helping Quackity with his wings as well as comforting Tubbo when he awoke crying). Fundy couldn't be himself, the memory and scars of glass shattering on what used to be unscathed skin made sure of that. However, he wished the small ram hybrid and duck hybrid trusted him. He had helped them through tears and pained cries but they never truly cared about his help, didn't even thank him once. He was probably looking too far into it, being selfish like he was always told he was, they didn't have to thank him, it wasn't necessary. It was fine, it was normal, he was expected to help, they didn't need to acknowledge it.

Now that Tubbo was president, Fundy knew deep down that it was okay that it didn’t matter anymore, however, the piles of memories and scars that burnt into his skin stopped him from ever trying. It didn't matter that Tubbo was similar to him, _it wasn't the same_. Nonetheless, Fundy kept his thoughts to himself since nobody needed to know his opinions, especially not when they already felt wary around him, and if he still hid his ears and tail to his best ability then that was no-one's business.

The forest was never like that. The forest was full of creatures that had odd habits and natures that looked vastly different from humans. The forest was quiet but still full of life but no watching eyes whilst everywhere else seemed to be loud and someone was constantly watching his every step. Maybe it was how there was nobody in the forest or how everybody was anywhere Fundy had ever gone to, but the forest felt like home whilst L’Manburg - and hell especially Manberg and Pogtopia - felt simply like a places he had resided in. Whenever he had to go back his thoughts were never ‘finally’ they were always ‘I wish I didn’t have to’ or ‘maybe I could stay just a while longer’.

The closest he ever got to feeling like his fox traits were okay in that country was when he was with Ranboo. The half-enderman couldn’t hide any of his nonhuman features or habits, something that Fundy found comfort in when talking about his own physically different traits. Fundy also took comfort in Ranboo’s memory issues, he felt terrible for it but the knowledge that Ranboo might not even remember any of the times Fundy had accidentally fox laughed or yipped made his anxiety subsided slightly. However that couldn't change the fact the Fundy didn’t belong there. Despite the fact that he had been born within the old walls and grew up to see them be torn down and new ones replace them, it was never where he belonged. Ranboo belonged there more than him. Everyone belonged there more than Fundy ever did.

\---------------------------

Fundy was in a small clearing, the noise of the various animals that resided beyond the trees exploded into his ears as he removed his hat and they became accustomed to being free. He tugged off the long jacket that he always wore, revealing scarred arms that he hid from prying eyes as he chucked the black fabric onto the grass for him to sit on. It was calm. The buzzing of the bees around their hive and the occasional bleats from sheep or snorts from a pig relaxed the fox-hybrid as he positioned his guitar on his lap. He had got it ages ago behind his father’s back, he knew that his father wouldn't care or would even teach him but for some reason Fundy never wanted that. He wanted something to himself, something that despite how similar it was to his father wouldn’t be compared to the dead man. Fundy’s music was personal, he barely made his own songs but those that he picked to learn he related to whether he liked that fact or not. He hardly - if ever - learnt any of his father's songs. He never even learnt the L’Manburg song and decided to completely forget about it at times whenever he was away from the country. It wasn't important to him seeing as he wasn't important to it.

Sometimes, Fundy talked to himself in the forest and as insane as he sounded; he felt at peace as the words he would never say to another person slipped past chapped lips and tears escaped him. Fundy wished he was different, it wasn’t the dysphoria he had gotten used to over the years but a completely different type of self-hatred. He wished his cheeks were less noticeable; wished that his hands were normal without his claws; wished that his canines weren’t extraordinarily sharp and fit for biting into meat. He wished his ears were like other people’s. He wished he didn’t have a fox tail that portrayed his emotions.

He wished he was human because maybe then people would treat him like a person. 

Maybe that was the reason or perhaps it was because he was childish, he didn’t know. Phil and Ant had obvious nonhuman attributes and they were respected and people paid attention to them. Bad was the leader of the Badlands and he wasn’t human at all. Perhaps it was all Fundy, perhaps his constant talking and jokes and general slyness was the reason for it. Perhaps it was the fact that he was part fox and not something less mischievous, foxes were rarely truly liked anyway. Maybe it was the way he did strange things like yip or fox laugh. Phil, Ant, and Bad never did stuff like that. They always seemed more human, more real, than Fundy did. Was he even seen as a person anymore? Fundy didn’t know. He didn’t want to go into that thought process but his brain always betrayed him, laughed at him as he shook in the corner of his home with his tail between his legs.

_**Self-deprecating thoughts interrupting all the time.**_

No-one loved Fundy, he had gotten that hint when he was a kid. He doesn't remember exactly when he realised it but he was younger than both Tubbo and Tommy, perhaps when he was twelve or possibly younger, Fundy didn’t know. He had thought he was loved a couple of times after that though. Once when he was fourteen with the last happy memory he had with his father he didn't know what it was but he knew he was happy at that moment. A few times with Niki and Ranboo, they felt like friends, but that obviously wasn’t true since who would want to be friends with him? He also felt some type of light in his heart whenever he pulled a prank, something he would put time into just to be a nuisance. It was stupid but his chest would feel lighter after all his hard work was complete even if it all went down hill quicker than it reached the peak. Of course, nobody appreciated them like he did but that was fine. (It wasn't but admitting that would be selfish and Fundy didn't want that.) Dream made him feel loved for a time, he didn’t know when that ended, mayhaps it had ended before it had even started. Someone like Dream would never love - never even platonically - someone like Fundy. Fundy wasn’t of power, his lead to anything of power was his father and he was as good as gone even if a ghost tried to take his place. The only other way Fundy was related to power was if Eret adopted him but even the king who promised him a father figure had abandoned him. Fundy knew how things worked, if he wasn't of power he was useless to Dream - he wished it was a lie, wished that the truth was just a cruel joke but truth was what it said on the bottle, the truth. Dream never loved Fundy, Fundy was simply insane enough to think that he had. Not even he loved himself but honestly who would love themselves if they were in a body like Fundy's? A traitorous son; not even a real man; covered in scars and trauma. He was worthless.

_**I want to end reality but I feel hesitant.**_

That was an interesting thought. It wasn't new but it was interesting when it appeared. Fundy still had two lives left but they wouldn't be difficult to lose, he knew how to make the more violent people angry after all. Besides, he knew how to make sure he wouldn't respawn with all his lives. The thoughts were stupid Fundy knew this, however they still carved themselves into his head. What would people think? Would they care about the poor dead fox? Probably not, he was weak and it was a known fact, he wasn’t anyone of importance and everyone that he thought would care he knew deep down wouldn’t. He would be seen as weaker and pathetic, they wouldn’t be surprised about it though. Maybe Ghostbur would be surprised but he barely remembered his own son enough to truly care. He would most likely forget about it anyway so honestly why did it matter? Perhaps they’ll be happy at his funeral like they were at Schlatt’s. He would like that, would like to see everyone happy and stress free. However, he was hesitant. He didn’t want to give in to what others wanted, didn't want to be predictable. It was a thought though, a scratch at the back of his mind and a voice as he fell asleep into a dreamless rest at night.

Fundy strummed his guitar for the last time that day and brought a clawed hand up to his sore throat, he didn’t realize it had been hurting. He absentmindedly traced over the scar on his head (it was mostly hidden by his hair but he knew it was there) that brought back memories of screaming, horns, and glass bottles. It was a habit he couldn't break but tracing his scars gave him comfort for some reason. He truly was pathetic, wasn't he?

It was becoming night but he honestly didn’t want to head back just yet. He had made a burrow (the more human term was bunker or base but Fundy was alone, he could use the more fox-like terms) out in the forest far away from everyone else, he kept his special items there and sometimes went there when everything felt to be too much. He could drop off his guitar there as well so nobody had the opportunity to find it. The half-fox grabbed his stuff, slipping on the long black jacket and stuffing his hat back on not caring if his ears were hidden or not. He slung the guitar over his shoulders and picked up the fox that had fallen asleep next to his feet before wandering off to where his burrow was located. Fundy didn’t pay attention to the feeling of eyes boring into his back assuming it was the usual fascinated look that the animals sent him (he was a rather strange sight so he was used to it). Tears were drying on his cheeks and a small fanged smile formed as he adjusted the small fox in his grip.

\---------------------------

Techno watched as his basically-nephew left in the direction he knew L’Manburg (or whatever it was called at the moment, Techno didn’t know or care to be frank) wasn’t. He didn’t bother approaching him, just hoped that the young fox wouldn’t do anything stupid as he left in a different direction towards his cabin.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked this mess of me lowkey projecting onto Fundy. This is my first time using ao3 so idrk what I'm doing but I've written before so I know the basics (I think?). Also, grammar is fuckin hard so sorry 'bout that I'm trying to get better.  
> If you did like it perhaps you could spare some kudos if you want :)  
> I hope everyone has a good day/night, cya!


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